


Missing

by ishery



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishery/pseuds/ishery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bofur misses Nori when he's gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing

Bofur misses him when he is gone.

Terribly.

But under no circumstance would he ever tell him that. 

No, instead he clings to the thief like his life depends upon it for those first few moments after he has returned and they are alone. He breathes in each new scent, lingering wisps of far away places he has never been, tastes the salt on his partner’s skin and imagines the winds that have placed it there. Far more interesting places decorating his thoughts than the mines and simple village he considers his home- painted into reality by the words that Nori recounts to him. When they are in public, he is the storyteller, the speaker the charmer. In their own space the thief’s words are like a symphony, taken them for true and committing them to his memory forever- each turning word, each change in pitch or timbre… for those days when his bed is empty again.

His bed is empty more often than it is occupied, but muscle memory kicks in as sheets are tossed akimbo and the heat of another body is pressed against his own. A map has been etched into his mind, every scar, bend, fold and crease is revisited like an old home. Calloused fingertips trailing over each new freckle, indexing it among the places his wayward lover has traveled before and will always go to again…. so long as he continues to come back.

In all the years they have been doing…whatever it was they did, Nori always had. 

But oh Bofur is a jealous thing, though he would never admit it to himself. Counting the number of clasps and beads and braids in Nori’s hair like a mantra, knowing he has no claim to a wandering soul. There are moments however, that he wonders if somewhere else along those roads that his lover travels that there isn’t another dwarrow who makes these same habits their own- eyeing each clasp eagerly to make sure that there are not new markings in the metal…. wondering who might also have the thief’s attentions….

There had never been another braid. 

He wishes he had the audacity to put one there, something small in among the intricate weaving of hair- something that, were someone to see it, they would know that someone has laid claim. That they are touching that which his heart wishes to be only his own. 

Soon enough though, visits will end and long hair that reminds him of the flames of a forge will be tied back into those braids once more, and his lover will return to the road that is perhaps his truer partner than even Bofur could claim to be. 

Over time his bedsheets will lose the smell of him and grow cold. The marks he knows are there, left carefully as the only claim they would make on each other will fade back into the canvas of his skin. Eventually, he will be resigned to the memories of salt kissed skin and laughter over pints of ale and strange meals with spices that he has never entirely learned to appreciate. 

And he will return to missing him. 

Terribly. 

Until the next time that the breeze carries him back through that door and it all begins again.

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, that was a thing! Posted ages ago on an RP blog and then on tumblr. Now here! Hope you enjoyed, please provide con-crit. 
> 
> More fics of this ship to come!


End file.
